


Comfort

by FancyLadySnackCakes



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Angst, Death, Depression, F/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7702435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyLadySnackCakes/pseuds/FancyLadySnackCakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He waits for the signal, even though he should know better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

Like rivers they were, he mused. Like waterfalls and heavy rain in summers long past. Eyes as blue and pale as the sky. Pouring. Who knew one could cry so hard on the brink of dehydration. 

He’d seen them too, the tears, much earlier while they’d been running in the ragged sands of bone, ash and old world ruin. Those tears hadn’t fallen then, though. No. She’d kept them trapped in those lashes, like webs for morning dew. Only when she hung her head moments ago did they fall, and fall; fall until dark patches rose wet on her thighs. The fibers saturated. Her cheeks saturated. Rivers running down and dripping off her chin. He’d never seen her cry until now.

Daddy, she would whimper. A word almost too mangled to decipher if one didn’t already know the previous day's tragedy. Hiccups soon followed. Tears still falling.

It was when she began to sob - great heaving sounds ripped from her throat like animal screeches of pain and helplessness - did he think to leave her be. But he never moved. Not all day nor that following night when she lay on her side, back to him in a broken sleep. 

He stood at the door. Waiting.

It came in the early morning, several hours before dawn. The sign. The first action in a series of events that he desired, even now. Under the low red glow of the lamp, he watched with not a sound as she eased upon her back. 

Those eyes. Those dark fucking eyes were glowing now.

He inhaled deeply as if to smell that salt from those tears. The stains still ran like scars down her cheeks. She stared at him and held her breath, wondering if what she was about to do was right he figured.

One with decency would not wait for it as he did, but there he stood while she warred with herself yet again.

He watched. He waited. And finally, she fingered the button on her jeans with hesitant care. When the zipper went down and slim white fingers delved down….he could feel his mouth tilt upwards.

It never took long. She never needed to say anything. But neither did he. Always tasted so sweet on his tongue - her silent plea to numb the pain. Sometimes it was over before he could think to slow his pace, but this time, he’d savor it. 

In the dark, under the red hue, she moaned. A sound that broke through the thick shadows between them both, luring him to her. With eyes never leaving her, capturing the sight of her bony wrist moving as her fingers dance against flesh he knew was wet, he slipped his gun off his back. It settled gently on the floor, leaning against the wall, ready if he needed it.

Short breaths were like chunks of warm meat for a hungry dog. Her smell was rich and he could taste her in the air.

He was on her soon enough, palms braced at her shoulders. Despite how she sank back into the bed, as if to escape him, she sighed when he licked a wet path from the base of her neck to the soft flesh of her ear. Her eyes never re-opened. That was fine, though, it bothered him only the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble I had tucked away. Thank you for reading. <3
> 
> Tumblr ----> http://brimbrimbrimbrim.tumblr.com/


End file.
